


Coffee Talks

by SweetDeath



Series: Avert [1]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Dana Scully - Freeform, F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fox Mulder - Freeform, Gay, Other, Puppy Love, Reader Insert, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, im so gay, reader - Freeform, really gay, unspecified gender, x Reader, you - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 08:53:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6560035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetDeath/pseuds/SweetDeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh, the things she did to you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee Talks

**Author's Note:**

> So my first female fic! I loooove Scully so much <3  
> Reader can be female, male, or other. It's unspecified! I tried to keep it as neutral as possible but if I made a mistake, tell me, okay? Thanks, darling~

Oh no.

Not again.

You kept your gaze down, on your shoes- no, on the heels of strangers roughly a yard in front of you. Looking directly at your shoes would be too suspicious. Oh, no, oh gosh, you hoped she didn't notice you, you beg any forces at work, anything that could have something to do with her interactions with you in any possible way, to have her miss you or to drop her pen, anything to pass you by without a word.

Don’t look suspicious, don’t draw attention to yourself. She slowed just a bit. Sweating nervously, you raised your eyes to the doors in front of you. ‘You’re so damn close,’ your mind screams at you, ‘Lady Luck, be kind to me, just this once, oh please, I beg of you’. 

“Excuse me? Do I know you?”

Oh shit.

“Hmm?” You turned to her, hoping she was talking to someone else, just not you.  
“Yeah. Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“O-Oh yeah, I think so. You Fox’s partner?” Damn it. You sounded like you wanted to pick a fight. Government agents have always been too formal for you. Except for him.

“Yeah…” Now she looked wary. You messed up. Then, she brightened, “Hey, aren’t you the person that lives across from him? I think I’ve seen you in his apartment a few times.”

She let her guard down, laughing, as you struggled to put some words together, any coherent conversation to appease this brilliant woman. She did something to you, something nasty and funky and mean. 

“Uh, yeah, I-I, ah, I’m friends with him, I guess. I mean, you could say I am, we kinda hang out a lot.” Greeeeeat. You messed UP. She smiled anyway. She smiled and nodded, not in a condescending way, but in a…friendly way? Almost a maternal way- oh god, please don’t think of me as a kid, you pleaded internally with her, please don’t. 

“So, do you have any business here? I mean, standing outside a government building looking as nervous as you do might not be the best decision of your life.” Her face was mischievous, like a fox smirking. Pun excused. She looked at you still, expecting an answer. People rushed around you, escaping the jobs of professionalism and paperwork or trudging towards it, carrying on with their lives as if they’ve never dreamed of something bigger, better, than filing in lines in and out of flawed justice systems and rising taxes. You realized you’ve been staring blankly at her longer than what would be considered polite.

“Yes! Yes- Um, F-Fox said he would meet me just inside the building? He said he wanted to talk to me today, but he didn’t say what it was about. I think I’m a little early,” you said, stealing a glance at her watch. Your wrist was bare. You were probably the color of her lipstick by now. Maybe her lips were naturally that color…

She raised an inquisitive eyebrow at you, not fazed by your stuttering or frequent distraction. She’s probably dealt with worse. 

“And Agent Mulder hasn’t told you that he’s going to be investigating a case?”  
“Ah, he has.”

Silence.

Maybe you should have elaborated.

“He hasn’t told me which case he’s been looking into, I mean, because it’s confidential and I bet he wouldn’t want to get fired from blabbing off to a- to someone that lives across the hallway from him. Ya know?” You might have been a little too informal for her. She seemed amused. She didn’t storm away or anything, so you couldn’t have been doing that badly.  
She looked you up and down for a moment, probably trying to access how much damage you could possibly do. You didn’t look like a murderer, or uncontrollably violent, but looks weren’t everything and she knew that very well. She was judging how much her actions would affect her.  
“Would you care to grab a drink with me? I know a great café nearby and I think we should get to know each other. Mulder tells me a lot of great things about you.”  
Was she inviting you on a date? She definitely was.

“So, tell me how you and Mulder met.” She certainly got right to the point, looking at you through her eyelashes and cradling a warm cup of joe. She didn’t fool around. No siree. You liked that.  
“Well, it wasn’t too unusual, I suppose, nothing as curious as the X-Files, right?”  
“That’s for me to judge.” And there was that smirk again.

_It was a hot day. A terribly hot day. Those days where you could stay indoors until the sun set, clad only in underwear and ice, and still feel like you’ve swam through the fires of Hell with demons. You moved into a new apartment to get away from your old life and become what you’ve always dreamed of; a rock star. Unfortunately, you would find out that your dreams wouldn’t come true, but you’ve been able to become a lounge singer in some classy bar on the finer side of town, so you settled for that, even though you don’t think that you suit your job that well. Maybe you would release a hit album one day. One day._  
The sky was clear and merciless as you unloaded what was probably a box of kitchen utensils or some hardware tools; either way, it was heavy. You had sweat through your tank top hours ago, sweated out all your shame too. An ice pack stuffed down your shirt and one in each pocket of your shorts. It was not a good day for you. Just as you thought that you might collapse from the heat, a savior came in a suit and tie and was easy on the eyes.  
“Hey, need any help there?” He asked. He was tall; much taller than you, and he was willing to help. Perfect.  
“Y-yeah, hi, I just moved in the building. You think you could give me a hand with my stuff?” You hoped he would actually agree, instead of asking if you needed help but not actually be willing to help you. Luckily, he was very willing.  
Boxes in hand, he walked you into your new, air-conditioned (which you were extremely grateful for) apartment. He held the door open for you with some trouble so you rushed in.  
“So, uh, where’s your flat?” He asked you. It turns out that, after exchanging flat numbers, you lived on the same floor and across the hall from him. You would enjoy the company of this handsome man. He helped to start setting up your apartment, set the mattress on the floor, make sure all the taps could run, put a fridge inside. It was barren but it would be home. You introduced yourself to him and found out his name.  
“Fox Mulder. Say, since it’s getting late how about you join me for a movie? I have some drinks and some frozen TV dinner too, if you wouldn’t mind.” He was sincere and you took him up on his offer. 

That was about a year ago. You couldn’t really be sure exactly how much time has passed, but you’ve gotten to know Fox very well. You would often go over to his flat in the evenings just to hang out. He probably thought you had a thing for him, due to how affectionate you could be. How wrong he was.

_“Hey, when’d you get in here?” He playfully ruffled your hair when he entered his apartment to find you lounging on his couch. “Got into my fridge too, I see.” He eyed the soda can in your hand and the bag of sunflower seeds on your lap. You look up at him mischievously, “Naïve little Foxy; did you really think you could let a raccoon in your house without locking up your fridge?”_  
“Raccoon or not, you should get some sleep. I thought you were a robber when I walked in. Nearly shot ya.” He teased as he plopped himself on top of you, crushing you slightly under his weight. He only moved when you threatened to throw his bowl of sunflower seeds out the window. Fox was a great guy.  
Someone knocked on the door. “Mulder? Are you home? I think you should take a look at this.” A woman’s voice came from behind the door.  
“Just one second!” Fox shouted as he rolled off his couch, grunting. “Hold on, this might be a while.” He answered the door and a very pretty red-headed lady walked in. Cue nearly flipping the couch over in surprise. You did not know Fox had such attractive female friends. He should’ve told you. She walked in looking at an open file in her arms, pulling out pictures and papers.  
“I think that our suspect is innocent. See, in the autopsy, instead of finding holes from needles, I found puncture wounds consistent with bee stings. I also found enormous amounts of bee venom in the victim. Mulder, I think something’s going on here. Maybe this is something t-“ She noticed you on the couch. “Oh,” She looked a little flustered, “Mulder, I didn’t know you had a visitor.”  
“Neither did I” Mumbled Fox under his breath.  
She approached you, folder in hand, until she stood in front of you. Her hand held out, she introduced herself.  
“Dana Scully. A pleasure to meet you.” You shook her hand firmly, trying not to swoon. You were nervous. You introduced yourself, adding “The pleasure is all mine” to try to impress her. It didn’t seem to work.  
Not knowing if you should stay and make things even more awkward or leave and possibly never see Dana again, you squeaked something about leaving your oven on and made a break for the door. What you missed was Fox’s suspicious eyes on your burning face. 

You decided to keep certain details about how you encountered Dana Scully for the first time to yourself, especially how nervous she made you with her beauty and intelligence. 

“I remember now! You were the person that Mulder said ate all his sunflower seeds!” She exclaimed, happy to make a connection between your name and your face. She leaned back and smiled.  
You grinned sheepishly, “Guilty as charged.”

She took a slow sip of her coffee and maintained eye contact before resuming conversation. You took a sip of your water as well. Sugar isn’t good for the vocals and you had a shift in an hour or two. Maybe you could invite her. 

Not today, though. You weren’t ready for her to come to your work yet (she definitely would’ve made you nervous) because it would be weird to invite her to your work. That’s weird. You’re weird.

“So what are you doing after this? Heading home or…?” She looked at you from beneath her eyelashes again. God, she had such long lashes. Was she asking if you were going home? With her?? Probably not. She was just genuinely curious. Poking a little bit to see if you had a significant other.  
“Ah, no, sorry. I gotta get to my job after. It’s the night shift today. I’m a singer.” Her eyebrows raised.  
“A singer?”  
“Yep! Nothing big, I’m just a lounge singer. Background music more than some Jessica Rabbit type gig. Gotta bring in the money, you know?” You gave her a lopsided grin that she easily returned.  
“Well, I won’t hold you then.” She started to gather her belongings. “I would hate to make you late for your job. Though I doubt we won’t see each other again, here; my number.” She had written down her cell number on a napkin for you, neat and clean, signed with her name in pretty script. 

“I hope we’ll meet again soon. I’ll have to put in a word with Mulder to see if he can ‘forget’ to tell you anything else,” She added with a wink. “So until then, I guess this is goodbye.”

Before you had the chance to shake her hand she grabbed your palm in a loose grip and walked with it before turning slowly, her fingertips trailing down your arm until they reached your own and let your appendage fall limp against your side. She turned her head one last time and smiled before heading for the door, hips and hair swaying enticingly. Your face burned. Your arms tingled where she touched. Your fingertips felt the hottest of all. 

You sure had to talk to Mulder about seeing Miss Dana Scully again. Oh, the things she did to you.


End file.
